


Culture Shock

by RedSnowWhite



Series: Writing Prompts, Terribly Misused [12]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Barbed cock, Cock & Ball Torture, Come Inflation, Demons, Demons Will Be Demons, Ice-cold Penis, Knotting, M/M, Mentions of Tragic Backstory, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Painful Sex, Penis Size, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slime Demon, Sounding, Spanking, Temperature Play, Tongue Size, all the way through, belly bulge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:53:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27762547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedSnowWhite/pseuds/RedSnowWhite
Summary: After being forcibly taken by a demon as a mate, Selvan has to get used to living in the demon world. The home decor is quite unfamiliar, very different things are considered polite, and the demons’ ideas about clothing are a tad avant-garde.Suffice to say, Selvan is experiencing quite a culture shock.Among other things.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Writing Prompts, Terribly Misused [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1955464
Comments: 17
Kudos: 162
Collections: Prose From the Abyss





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: A Day in the Life
> 
> This is a sequel to: "When the Stars Align", and may not make sense without reading that first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no plot in this chapter. None. Null. Nada. In fact, this chapter is to plot what antimatter is to matter.
> 
> That's what I'd like to say. Unfortunately — or not — a tiny bit of plot sneaked in when I wasn't looking. We'll see how it fares in such hostile environment.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy.

Selvan isn’t breathing. 

The reflex that moves the muscles in his chest is there, but not the air. Instead, he inhales into himself the slippery, half-liquid body of a sentient being. It slides through his nose, into his throat, and swirls in his lungs — like smoke, but heavy, thick, and wet. It was terrifying at first — is terrifying, if he cares to unbury the part of himself still capable of experiencing terror — but somehow he isn’t suffocating. He has no idea how it’s possible, to breathe in another creature, a person. 

Hell, at this point, he has no idea how he’s even still alive.

The being presses on him again, from outside in — and from inside out. Its name is Meom, and it’s in his sinuses, in his stomach, in his bladder. The pressure builds, and Selvan tenses, then cramps all over. Oh God. How long is it going to do it this time? How long has it been? Where the hell is Tarr? 

His demon is busy who knows where. He’s talking to someone. Selvan feels a brief spike of annoyance, then Tarr’s attention focuses on him, and Meom’s swirling pressure is suddenly _more_. Selvan wants to squirm, but the fluid surrounding him is as resistant as Meom wishes it to be. Tarr is looking at him from inside their joined minds, and the slime’s push concentrates in Selvan’s penis, although he’s pretty sure the pressure hasn’t objectively changed. 

Everything seems _more_ when Tarr is involved. Selvan needs to cum, but Tarr doesn’t want him to — and Meom will not let him, anyway. The slime is too deep in there; it plugs his balls and leaves no space for his seed to gather. If Selvan cums, it’ll be Meom’s body he’ll be ejaculating.

Tarr doesn’t like that idea. Selvan panics. It’s not like he’s the one in control here! If Meom does again whatever he did to his prostate when they were in the Gate — when Selvan was half unconscious with the kind of pain he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest nightmares — then he’s not responsible for how his body reacts! Back then, he honestly thought two different fires were fighting in him over which one could consume him faster. Will it be the agonizing flame of the Universe ripped in two, assaulting him from the outside, or the impossible ecstasy wrecking through his pelvis? 

That sensation, what the hell it even _was_? Selvan hasn’t experienced many orgasms in his life, but he’s pretty sure they aren’t supposed to feel as if some sort of alien creature made of pleasure was trying to chew its way out of you. He probably would’ve died, or at least went insane, if Tarr didn’t hold his mind through it, through that moment when the contrast of pain and bliss reached the apogee and almost destroyed him.

Tarr was delighted with how Selvan clung to his mind and soul when they were crossing. He was less delighted with the aftershocks seizing Selvan’s hips for minutes after. It seemed the bastard was under the impression that while other demons could — and very much should — enjoy Selvan’s body, Selvan himself was allowed to feel good only on Tarr’s cock. Even when Meom explained they always do that to humans when they go through the Gate, to give them some sensation other than pain to focus on, Tarr was still very displeased. He demanded access to Selvan’s hole, and Meom’s entire body shook with laughter. But the slime demon easily agreed, and for a moment there Selvan was happy he’ll be freed from his unusual prison. 

He should’ve known better.

Because Meom wheeled, sloshed around, and presented Tarr with Selvan’s ass — and ass only.

And that was apparently funny. Bloody hilarious, Selvan not breathing properly, having parts of a _living creature_ roil in his stomach and seep into every smallest space in his head. It was in his fucking inner ear, for fuck’s sake, causing him to completely lose a sense of which way was up. And in his cock! It was going in and out of his bloody cock in rhythmic waves: the vacuum of it leaving deflated his bladder into a tiny ball of ache, and then it gushed back in, burning through his urethra, in, in, a tiny bit _more_ each time. It squirmed at the root, sought new spaces to penetrate, stimulated him in ways he still doesn’t entirely believe are possible, not even after experiencing it. All of that was bloody funny, apparently. Every gap inside him violated, stretched, filled. Places he never knew existed — touched. His body opened. His ass — 

Selvan tries not to think about his ass. Yet, it’s impossible to ignore. He got raped so many times today, in so many ways. He’s still being raped, in every smallest orifice. But it’s his ass that holds center stage in this show of humiliation. It’s sore. It’s open. And it belongs to Tarr; Tarr took it, and now it’s his. 

It was Tarr’s when that white demon made Selvan cry with his horrible freezing cock. It was Tarr’s when Meom sunk half his liquid body into it. And most of all, it was Tarr’s when the gelatinous fluid spilled out of it for a moment, to make space for Tarr’s cock and Tarr’s cum. Selvan’s body was still suspended in slimy vertigo, but he felt cold air on his buttocks and inside, and in his mind his demon halfheartedly complained about how loose he was. Shame pierced through Selvan, even when he knew it wasn’t his fault. It was so humiliating — a virgin just yesterday, yet he couldn’t even remember how it felt not to have a wide-open asshole aching to be violated, aching for Tarr to once more prove his ownership.

Because it was Tarr’s. Selvan’s entire self was Tarr’s, and the demon possessed him in one glorious thrust. Meom opened him up so good Tarr’s enormous cock didn’t even hurt anymore going in; it just slid through Selvan in an avalanche of pleasure. His hole was on fire; how could a part of his body he so studiously ignored all his life feel so much? He couldn’t moan with Meom in his lungs but he pushed his depraved sounds into Tarr’s mind, wanting him to know how good he felt to Selvan, how much Selvan couldn’t stand it, this wretched pleasure that burned his carefully cultivated morals and sense of self. Selvan was getting fucked in the ass by a demon, and he was loving it. Oh, if only master Solomon could see him now! All that preaching about the power of innocence, about purity winning wars. Master Solomon’s tiny ascetic heart would’ve exploded into pieces if only he could see how utterly Selvan’s ass has been conquered.

Now, once more fully suspended in slime, Selvan distracts himself with that memory. Tarr’s weird prickly barbs were so much better than a homogenous mass of Meom sliding through his insides. Meom stretches him wider but he can’t go all the way in anymore, Selvan’s gut is stuffed with Tarr’s cum, and it doesn’t like Meom’s company. The warmth in Selvan’s belly is distinct and unmistakable; he can tell precisely where the slime ends and the darkness Tarr filled him with begins. It’s compressed tight — Meom isn’t giving up easily — but its warmth is reassuring. Selvan belongs to Tarr, and his demon will come for him, eventually. 

And maybe he’ll even let Selvan cum this time. He was angry before when he was fucking his mate’s ass protruding from Meom’s body. Selvan begged and begged, but his demon forbade Meom from allowing him to ejaculate, and Tarr himself was very careful not to make him orgasm dry. He didn’t even knot Selvan properly! He just used him, then pushed Selvan’s raw, hot, frustrated asshole into Meom again, and the slime filled it, and now presses, presses, presses. 

Every several minutes or so, there’s this moment when the man’s body can’t stand it anymore, and his muscles cramp — the individual strands, in the strangest places. Not only his fingers, the back of his thighs, his cheek, but also behind his ear, inside his nose, in his cock, and deep within his gut. It starts with fast ticks, then gradually degenerates into a vicious ache. It’s not pleasurable at all, and Selvan would be genuinely suffering if Meom hasn’t been focusing so much of his attention on the man’s frustrated cock. The cramps there are almost reminiscent of the spasms of orgasm, but lacking its relief. Something in Selvan is going to break, something important and having nothing to do with his body. Tarr better come get him soon.

Tarr doesn’t come for hours. Selvan probably loses consciousness for some of it, he isn’t certain, everything is a weird blur of expanding bliss and pulsing suffering. Meom keeps his word and doesn’t let him cum. A low fire has been burning in Selvan’s pelvis for so long now the man isn’t sure how it’s possible there’s flesh still left. Maybe it’s just his imagination, that he has a penis at all. Maybe he never had one, or maybe master Solomon cut it off when Selvan was fifteen, then replaced it with a piece of steel, and Selvan never noticed. What if Selvan isn’t even a man, hasn’t been a man for years — or ever — what proof does he have his cock even exists? Since Tarr took off the cage, Selvan hasn’t seen it. His belly was too big, then Tarr was holding him, then there was Meom. He touched it earlier, when they were still in the human world and Tarr was fucking him, he thinks — but what if he imagined that too, it sure didn’t feel entirely real. He can’t touch it now — aside from letting him spasm and tremble, Meom keeps his body immobile.

Selvan needs to touch his cock. Tarr! Tarr, do something!

And finally! Finally, his demon’s presence closes in on him, and Selvan is spilling out of Meom and right into Tarr’s waiting arms. The air assaults him with its dryness; his lungs burn. Selvan’s skin is so sensitive the sand and individual blades of grass under his feet hurt. His cock quivers and erupts the moment it touches Tarr’s leg, and he blacks out.

He comes to draped over Tarr’s chest and enveloped by powerful shoulders, his body’s weight supported by three of Tarr’s fingers embedded in Selvan’s loose asshole. Selvan’s skin prickles with hot embarrassment at the feeling, and he strains to find some support for his legs. Tarr spanks him hard.

Fuck.

“There’s no body hair on him,” Tarr says while groping his buttock, and Selvan realizes they’re still not alone. He must’ve not been unconscious for very long.

“I dissolved them.” That’s Meom. “They are annoying, especially those on the face and between the legs. I have left the ones on top of his head, though.”

“Good, I like those.”

“I thought you may.” Meom sounds amused. “You can regrow the rest easily enough. I personally don’t understand the appeal. I prefer my human smooth. Though Demir, for example, has his mate grow a thick layer of fur on his face. He says it is stimulating.”

Tarr snorts.

“Floral demons,” he says, like it explains everything.

No body hair, huh? Selvan touches his face. Yes, it is smooth like a baby’s. He reaches down, and the fine blond hair on his chest and thighs are also gone. He wriggles his fingers between his body and Tarr’s, and the skin there is smooth, delicate, and way too sensitive. Selvan pushes his hand deeper and just about manages to wrap it around his rigid cock before Tarr pulls it away.

“Leave that alone,” he says. “No playing with yourself in public.”

Selvan doesn’t know if he should be more ashamed or indignant. So Tarr sticking his appendages into Selvan is fine, but Selvan touching his own body is not? What kind of twisted logic is that?

“Let’s go before some lesser demon stumbles upon us.” That’s the one with the freezing cock, Garud. “They’re not allowed to know you have a human unless they’re bonded in service to you or another Elder.”

“To control the population of Elders, hmm?”

“Oh, please. Having a mate is a responsibility, and most of them aren’t ready for it. Four Alignments ago, a reptile found out, blabbed to his pack, and they tried to drag through the Gate an entire village, screaming and half-bonded. That was a right mess, and you’re lucky you weren’t around to deal with it.”

“The pack that lived by the southern river?”

“Hah. _Lived_ being a keyword here.”

Selvan listens, trying to glean as much information as he can. There are different types of demons — which he knew, from his time in the Order. But he didn’t quite comprehend how many. He knew they differ in shape and abilities, but it turns out they also have different biology and social structures. Tarr doesn’t know much about slime demons, the floral demons are universally considered weird, there’s some sort of reptilian demons with a pack mentality, and whatever horrible thing Garud is. Oh, and there’s also that writhing mount of tentacles he fought on the battlefield — has it really been less than a day ago?

Tarr readjusts him as they walk, lets Selvan wrap his legs around the demon’s hips, which lessens the pressure on Selvan’s hole. Still, the demon keeps his fingers in, keeps touching him inside. The absent-minded caress is loud in Selvan’s mind. When he was younger, in one of the Order’s classrooms for new initiates, there was this big blackboard, and the chalk was always poor quality. Every word written on that blackboard emitted a high-pitched screech that never failed to scratch the surface of Selvan’s brain. That’s what every movement of Tarr’s fingers is doing. 

It’s so difficult to focus, but Selvan tries anyway. His situation is hopeless, but he’s still human — oh God, let him still be human — and he wants to survive.

So lower demons can die. What would happen if one found out about Selvan?

Tarr spanks him.

“Oh?” Garud asks.

“Nothing. Just some stupid ideas.”

“Mind that they don’t get too stupid. You’re responsible for him now.”

Tarr nods and they walk. He’s irritated with his human, but also warm and fond. 

Selvan’s father let him have a puppy once when he was a boy. It often made Selvan feel exactly like that — until the night his father came home without his mother and had to blame _something_. Back then, Selvan was lucky he wasn’t that puppy. 

This time, he sort of is.

He gets spanked for that, too.

“Stupid thoughts again?” Garud asks.

“Very.” Tarr pinches the rim of Selvan’s asshole for good measure. Selvan is his now. He takes care of what’s his.

Selvan’s breathing speeds up. He’s Tarr’s. His cock is hard, and it’s wetting the demon’s belly with pre-cum. Tarr enjoys the man’s reaction and rewards him by digging a finger into his prostate. It’s too much after everything Meom has done to it, and Selvan wants him to stop. But he doesn’t protest, because the demon deserves a reward too. If Tarr protects him, Selvan will try his best to be a good mate. Selvan is brave but he’s not stupid; he wants to survive, even if he has to pay for it with his body. 

Wouldn’t be the first time, too. When master Solomon took him in, he may not have demanded sexual favors, but he still worked Selvan to the bone.

Tarr wants to kill this master Solomon, and Selvan squashes a hysterical urge to giggle. 

No. He shouldn’t wish ill on the mentor who took him out of the hellhole his family home turned into and helped raise him. It’s not master Solomon’s fault things turned out like this. 

Spank.

“You know, it is far more comfortable to do that while seated,” Garud comments, amused. “I also do enjoy giving my mate a good spanking. It never fails to get me in the mood and has an added benefit of heating his ass, which is always a good thing, in my personal opinion.”

No, no, no, stop considering it!

Damn!

Tarr can’t spank him! No, he can’t!

The quality of the light changing yanks Selvan out of his panic. They’re in a tunnel with gently gleaming walls. Right then, the man realizes his failure — they were walking outside for quite some time, yet he has no idea what his new world looks like at all. He consoles himself that he at least tried listening; so what if lifting his head from Tarr’s chest proved too much. He’ll have years to familiarize himself with this place, it’s not as if he’s going to be imprisoned.

Is he?

Tarr’s thoughts are blank.

Is he?!

“So you wouldn’t mind,” Tarr says, “if I take some time to warm up my human a bit?”

“Not at all. Meanwhile, I’ll go and fetch mine. Enjoy yourself. “

Selvan gets thrown over Tarr’s lap and has only a moment to take in the room — the cave — they’re in. It’s bare and spacious and shining in places, and Tarr’s heavy hand lands on his buttocks. 

He was going to be good for Tarr. He decided! He was going to cooperate, to be an obedient fucktoy. Why?! He hates being spanked! His father never hit him before that awful night — and later it was never anything as mundane as spanking — but corporal punishment was common in the Order. Selvan had trouble adjusting at first, so he got spanked and caned a lot. And Tarr is worse than master Solomon, all his instructors, and the bloody abbot together — none of them delved into Selvan’s sore, oversensitive hole every other hit or teased the underside of his erect penis. And not a single one of them ever made him cry.

Under Selvan, Tarr’s hot, slippery cock sneaks out of its pouch-thing, curiously pokes the man’s belly button, and slides over his nipples. 

Damn, Selvan almost managed to forget about his nipples. 

The thing is like a separate living creature: long, agile, and covered in sentient miniature limbs. They prod and cling, wrap around Selvan’s poor teats. He squirms, overwhelmed, and Tarr finally loses control over their mental connection; the demon’s pleasure spills into Selvan, drowning his distress. 

No, even if Selvan won’t be able to go everywhere, he will not be a prisoner. He also doesn’t need to offer Tarr his hole, there’s no point, Tarr is going to take it whenever he wishes. And Selvan’s ass is going to be spanked. Often. Extensively. With dedication — until it forgets all other hands that have ever touched it without Tarr’s permission.

After that, Selvan breaks down completely and sobs curled over Tarr’s knee. The man would worry about not being able to sit for weeks if only his entire self wasn’t centered on his flaming buttocks. Even the abbot’s thick cane was never this much, and the demon keeps adding heat to the furnace. He hates it — Tarr loves it — his cock pulses with Tarr’s pleasure — no cumming — oh please — we’re guests, don’t be rude — don’t care, don’t care, don’t care…

“Magnificent work,” Garud says.

Tarr stops, and Selvan lifts his head, dizzy with pain and frustration.

The sickly white, spindly form of Garud fills his vision, and Selvan’s eyes immediately focus on his half-hard cock, which is just — hanging there. Selvan remembers it well; he recoils away from it and closer to Tarr. 

Only then does he notice the other person. 

A human.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selvan and Tarr meet Garud's mate. One could say, they get to know each other a bit.

The man is standing behind Garud, but his posture isn’t one Selvan would associate with a slave. He has his hands behind his back, but his stance is relaxed, and he’s looking straight at them. He is tall, entirely hairless, with gleaming bronze skin, thick thighs, muscled stomach, and pronounced pectorals. They’re accentuated by an ornamental white mesh made of some unfamiliar material. It encompasses the biceps, frames the lighter shade of his nipples, and ends just above the solar plexus. He is naked besides that, and his long purple cock strains proudly between his legs. 

Selvan can’t take his eyes away from him — up until Tarr’s heavy hand lands between his abused buttocks with a slap. He chokes on a scream and his vision blurs with tears.

Garud smiles and strokes his human’s crotch possessively. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? It’s been over two millennia since I first laid hands on him, yet I still haven’t had enough.”

“Very beautiful,” agrees Tarr while aggressively pumping his fingers into Selvan’s sore ass. Tarr’s excited, which worries the man. 

Why are they here, exactly?

Selvan vaguely recalls some talk about Garud’s mate. He isn’t sure when that conversation happened or of its contents. He must’ve been inside Meom; he couldn’t really _hear_ anything with slime filling his ears, only what was getting filtered through Tarr’s mind when his mate was near. And even then, he wasn’t always paying attention, what with thick, lukewarm fluid forcing its way up his burning cock and prodding at his prostate.

“His name is Zimion,” Garud says. The man inclines his head in a greeting. The white demon addresses his human, “this is Elder Tarr and his new mate, Selvan. You’ll show them our hospitality.”

Zimion raises an eyebrow at that, and a barely-there smile smooths his symmetric face. “Of course.” He bows shallowly in Tarr’s direction. “How will you have me?”

Come again?

Ideas flash through Tarr’s mind — ideas that make Selvan extremely uncomfortable. He knows Tarr had other humans while Selvan was trapped inside Meom — the echoes of the demon’s orgasms rolling through the man’s mind in sickly warm waves — but back then it didn’t matter to Tarr in whom he was burying his cock. He even preferred to take holes already opened by lesser demons to not waste time. As long as a human was available, he would take them, pump them with enough cum to facilitate the basic mental connection that allowed him to feed off them remotely, then he left in search for another — nothing but a parade of faceless holes that didn’t matter.

But Zimion isn’t just a random human hole Tarr wants to fuck. 

The demon gets an idea but shuts their connection before Selvan can take a closer look; he’s getting better at controlling their mental link, unlike Selvan, who doesn’t know how to even start doing that.

“I’d like some more space,” Tarr says. 

They are sitting on a wide bench protruding from the stone wall all around the vast chamber. Now, Garud gestures towards the circle of something white and fluorescent in the center of the room. Tarr pushes Selvan to stand up.

It’s the first time Selvan is walking on his own since this disaster of a day started. His legs quiver and every cell between his thighs aches. His lewd hole opens with every step he takes and there’s a — noise. Even more mortifying is the way Garud keeps glancing at him. Surely, Tarr won’t give Selvan to him again?

The gently glowing thing on the floor is pliant, like thick mud, covered with a velvety membrane. It molds to Selvan’s feet and is wonderfully warm. Tarr gets to the middle and sprawls comfortably on his back, with arms under his head. Selvan takes in the black curling horns, all the dark skin, and concentrated power. His body heats and his cock dances. Selvan is pretty tall and strong for a human, yet he seems almost dainty next to Tarr. The black ocean of the demon’s eyes is so alien — and so attractive. The monstrous thing swaying between hard thighs…

“Come here.”

Selvan moves before he realizes Tarr isn’t talking to him.

Zimion walks past and straddles Tarr’s powerful hips. The glans of Tarr’s cock enters his anus and the man grunts.

“Can you take him?” Garud asks from behind Selvan’s shoulder. 

Zimion’s breathing is strained when the tip of Tarr’s impossible cock pushes in and out of his sphincter, but he looks at them with a challenge. “I can.”

Tarr’s cock pierces in.

Selvan is so paralyzed he doesn’t react when an icy finger sneaks inside him and pushes an excruciating chill into his prostate.

“Look how beautifully the muscles move under his skin,” Garud whispers into his ear. Garud’s hand is so cold — that’s why Selvan is shaking. “Oh, how deep that cock reaches. My Zim appreciates it very much.” Selvan’s insides hurt. “I can’t give him such depth, and he deserves it, he deserves the very best. We’re always happy to have well-endowed friends over.” 

Garud’s horrible cock slides into him and Selvan can’t bring himself to protest.

Tarr looks at him. Zimion moans and throws his head back. Garud’s thrusts are deliberate and unhurried, and Selvan is crying. Tarr’s pleasure warms his insides, but Garud’s coldness sips at it and turns his flesh numb.

“Your hole is very hot,” Tarr says to Zimion.

“Garud likes it… aaah… that way.”

“Is it a permanent change?”

“No,” Garud answers from behind Selvan, and goosebumps cover the man’s skin at the sound of his voice. “Zimion collects the sap of Myr trees and massages it into his hole.”

“Oh? How often?”

When Tarr fucks in all the way, Zimion squeezes his buttocks around him. “Every day,” he says, then moves.

“Isn’t the sap of Myr trees abrasive to humans?”

“My mate enjoys it.”

“I’ll give you some if you want,” Garud says, then brushes away Selvan’s long hair and kisses him gently on the neck. 

Selvan’s knees almost buckle. Garud is so cold, but Tarr is enjoying himself, and it’s starting to feel good. 

“Your human is quite lovely inside, but adding some more heat to one’s sex life is always nice.”

Tarr chuckles. “Thank you, but I like his natural temperature. Maybe in a few years, if I get bored with it.” He grabs Zimion’s hips and slams him over his developing knot. The man screams and convulses, but then takes a deep breath and looks over Selvan’s shoulder, triumphant.

“Very good, mate,” Garud murmurs. Then, louder, he says, “do you wish to knot him?”

Zimion’s eyes widen with panic.

“Aren’t you worried I’ll stretch him too much?”

“Oh, he can take a little stretching. It’s just that we have a bet going on. If he doesn’t cum today, he gets a… favor. If he does,” Garud speeds up, “I get to watch him take an entire pack of reptiles, in both his mouth and ass.”

Tarr strokes his broad hands over the tense belly and thighs as Garud’s mate forces his body up and down his cock. “What do you say, Zimion? Would you like to get knotted?”

“Aaah, very much, Elder Tarr.” Zimion grins. “But preferably some other day. Are you… ah… very busy tomorrow?”

Selvan’s ass clamps so hard on Garud’s cock the demon groans and breaks his slow rhythm. “Are you feeling this, Tarr?” he asks as he stabs Selvan’s sore prostate.

Tarr stretches under Zimion and pumps up his hips. “Yesss. Garud, you always have the best ideas.”

Selvan clenches his teeth, fists and asshole. He isn’t jealous. He isn’t! And this doesn’t feel good at all! 

Tarr looks into his eyes. “Do not cum.”

Bastard.

Garud runs the cold tips of his fingers over Selvan’s hip bones and near the root of his cock. Selvan glares at Tarr. The demon behind him thrusts in hard, pauses, and floods him with seed. Fucking hell, it’s so cold! He wants it out — he knows he must keep it in. Fuck, but it hurts.

Tarr pushes the other human away and is on him in a blink. He pecks Selvan on the lips, spins him around, and fills Selvan’s ass and stomach with heat. Another blink and Selvan is full of boiling cum, and his ass opens wide on his mate’s knot. Garud’s cold body presses to him front-to-front, Selvan’s cock beside Garud’s cock. But inside him, there’s so much relief. He explodes, and Garud cuts off his scream with a freezing kiss.

“Hey, I like his sounds,” Tarr complains from behind a wall of white noise.

“And I like how warm the inside of his mouth is. I wonder how his throat feels.”

“Garud. We agreed on once a month. This extra is only because you’ve been helpful.”

Selvan is trying to shake cotton out of his head. God forgive him, but he loves cumming.

Zimion saunters up to them and wraps his body around Garud’s side. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He looks pointedly at his leaking cock. Selvan follows his gaze and blushes.

Somehow it’s different, having demons’ cocks hanging out left and right, compared to the naked genitals of another human. 

Maybe it’s because Zimion acts like wearing nothing but the decoration on his chest and shoulders, and asking a demon to take care of his erection is perfectly normal — while Selvan’s brain keeps falling to a different default.

In the Order, you never saw your brothers naked. Ever. The punishment was also dealt with privately, with a minimal amount of skin exposed. Even the communal bath was partitioned with wooden screens. Plus, they were all caged. During the five years he spent at the Order, Selvan not only didn’t see another man’s cock; he didn’t even see his own.

“Isn’t the bet still ongoing?” Garud… pouts?

“No,” Zimion says with confidence. “You lost.”

Tarr laughs, then pulls Selvan down with him. He kneels, with Selvan on his lap and full of inflated cock. “In that case,” his demon says, “get that pretty wet thing here. Open your mouth, precious.”

When Selvan doesn’t react, shocked by the vision suddenly appearing before his eyes, Tarr nudges the corner of his mouth with a finger. “Mind he’s not trained yet,” he says, just as a warm, salty shape slides over Selvan’s tongue. It reaches the back of his throat, and Selvan looks up.

Zimion is looking at him with a dark smile. 

“Can you keep his teeth away from my penis then, Elder Tarr?” the man says, still looking right into Selvan’s eyes.

Tarr nibbles at a delicate ear. “Certainly,” he growls and immobilizes his mate’s jaw by putting the tips of his fingers between his teeth at the corners of his mouth. 

Zimion fucks down Selvan’s throat. His cock pulses and Selvan swallows around him. He keeps looking up.

“I thought… he wasn’t trained,” Zimion pants.

Tarr kisses Selvan’s cheek. “He’s very talented.“

Selvan’s face and chest are hot. The inside of his throat feels good; he still prefers Tarr’s long tongue, but the savory taste is interesting and reminds him he hasn’t had any food in ages.

“He thinks you’re tasty.”

Zimion strokes his hair. “Thank you, dear.” 

Selvan keeps swallowing. His heart is beating so fast. Zimion keeps losing his rhythm; in his place, Selvan would’ve fallen apart long ago, but this guy is literally ages old. He has control in spades. Unlike Selvan, who’s pelvis is already heating again. An icy hand wraps around his cock. Owww, Garud! It strokes him, but it’s not conducive to cumming. Tarr, tell him to stop!

Tarr approves of the hand. Selvan will not be cumming because someone that isn’t Tarr stuffs a hot piece of meat down his throat! Selvan’s vision blurs with tears and his throat constricts, then Zimion is pulling Selvan’s face into his crotch, and a stream of cum warms the man’s chest from the inside.

Zimion pulls out and Selvan swallows.

“What do you say?” asks Tarr in a warm, low voice, and Selvan looks down, with his face and ears hot.

“Thank you.”

Zimion kneels down in front of him and kisses him straight on the lips. “No, thank _you_.”


End file.
